


The Boy

by SallyGardener



Series: Henioustuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Henioustuck au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyGardener/pseuds/SallyGardener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm really something bad at summaries, but, um, just, warning I guess for violence and creepiness. Yeah, Um, right, so Dave and his Bro are just escaped monsters. They went back to their abandoned apartment and that's where it all starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A boy laid in a room. The room was dusty, the only light source was through the space between the boarded up windows. The boy rested on the dirty, worn out bed that would send a symphony of creaks through the silent room every time he so much as breathed. He took the time to actually look down at the sheets. They’d turned brown over the years and the pattern of hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds were faded, but they were still his. He rolled over, his white eyes illuminated by a bright red turning gear, as they scanned the room, mentally putting in crappy posters and useless jars of preserved animals. He parted his dry, cracked lips hidden behind his ridiculous mask and let out the shortest sigh before rolling over yet again, staring out the widest crack in the boards at the sunset. He really wasn’t sure why, but this time of day was always his favorite and he made a slight chirp of contentment.    
He laid there, watching the sun’s rays disappear and be replaced with the moon’s light, trying to drift off into an unforgiving sleep, even though he didn’t need it at all. His attempts were short lived when the door slammed open. The smell of blood hit his nose and he knew who it was even before he rolled over. The doorway was just slightly visible, even with the amount of light seeping through the cracked boards. He had just swung his legs over the bed's edge when the figure stepped forward. Well it didn’t exactly  walk per say, it more of limped like a zombie over to him. Even in the dark, he could still see its head twitching from the right to the left with wood splitting sounds. It stopped in front of him and dangled his “dinner” in his face. The boy took it silently until the figure crouched down and grabbed a fist full of his hair. It had pointy glasses that might’ve looked ironically cool at one point, but were just a tragic reminder of what was once a man. The left lens was cracked so bad it looked like it would just fall apart at any moment. Through the cracked lens a single orange eye so bright it glowed could be seen. The boy swallowed and chirped out an apology as well as a thank you. It let go and limped out of the room, wooden clanking sounding on its way out. It paused at the doorway and turned its head completely around, letting out a high pitched wailing laugher as it left.

It sent a shudder through the boy’s body as he looked down to see what he was even eating. He didn’t need the moon’s light to see unlike that thing did, and this was clearly a liver.

Well that’s appetizing.

Who or whatever this liver belonged to did  not take care of it. It tasted as rotten as the boy and thing in the next room. Either way, he ate it without so much as a peep. He waited there for about ten minutes before standing on his aching legs and moving over to the next doorway. That thing’s in there, chomping away on something all fucking bloody. Although he himself had probably just eaten something from whatever that thing was eating, he still almost cringed back at the sight. His movement in the doorway made the thing pause, and turn it’s head a complete 180 degrees to stare him down. The boy cleared his throat and stood his ground, “Hey Bro. Are we leaving tonight?”   
It didn’t answer; it just stood and slowly walked towards him until it was towering over him, the body still facing it’s “meal.” It began to bend backwards and the boy quickly took a step back, nodding a bit in the process and going back to his room. He closed the door and listened for the thing to go back to its “food” before making his way across the squeaky floors and into the even squeakier bed. If he made too much noise it would come back and stare at him until he fell asleep or something, maybe snap a wing while it was there. It wouldn’t be the first time it’d ever done that, but the boy sure hoped to whoever was out there that last time was really the last. He faced the window boards again, expecting to see some sort of clear sky or maybe hear some random conversation among the birds. Nope. Instead what he tuned into was a sudden downpour. Some birds landed on the windowsill right beside the where he was and began merrily chirping about the chances of getting a rainstorm in July in Texas. The boy listen in every now and again, finally drifting off when the sun started rising. 

He dreamed. 

He dreamed about when he was alive and free. He dreamed about how much he loved skateboarding and rapping. He had blond hair and he absolutely adored his collections of dead things he’d found. He remembered mixing tapes and making each one better than the last, the glowing pride he had at being a Lalonde and the thrill of sword fighting with his brother on the rooftops on hot days. He remembered feeling the bitterness of being born with red eyes, even though he could pass for albino, and the fact that no matter how much he tried he simply could get any muscles to show through. He definitely remembered just hearing about this program called Pesterchum before all of this shit happened. More than anything he dreamed about the absolute loneliness of having no one in that lab in California. He dreamed about just being  alive. 

Of course all good things must come to an end. 

He woke up to a cold hand being placed on his shoulder. He tensed and let out a peep as a conformation he was awake before it grabbed him any harder and shook him. It happened anyways and he forcefully say up before looking at it. It just stared at him for a minute, like it was wondering why he’d woken up, before letting out a low cackling that sent chills down the boy's back. The boy nodded and stood as it stood too, just watching him with it’s head tilted to the right and twitching as it moved to the left. The boy was given enough time to stretch out his pitch black wings and move his hair out of his eyes when his ears picked up footsteps clanking on the metal staircase outside the building. Those footsteps belonged to  them.  He let out a threatening hiss before it grabbed his hair in a tight hold and led him towards the back window. It smashed the offending object in it’s spare hand and flung the boy outside.

There was a moment of weightlessness for the boy before he remembered he had Let wings and pumped them. It was already jumping down from windowsill to windowsill. The boy dove down, almost chirping out a curse for the sun being at the very top  of the sky. That meant it was at least noon. The most he got out was an irritated puff of air before his hair was yanked on again and he was forced to the ground and then into a run, slowing down for the thing so he didn’t lose it. There was a small shout in the far back followed by a scream, and the boy grabbed it’s hand and ran faster. It wasn’t too long before he found a sewer and lifted the lid enough for it to slip down. He followed it, quietly putting down the lid as footsteps rounded the corner and stopped right on the lid. The only noise was the cracking of it’s head and involuntary twitching arms. There were a total of three men currently in pursuit of them. From what he remembered there were maybe four humans chasing them, two really skinny ones and a huge bulky one. Two of them wore hats with ridiculous colors and numbers on them. The numbers were something like; 5 and 15.    
There was a hushed conversation going on and he waited one breathless minute before they continued shuffling forward at the sound of distant clattering. He dropped down to the bottom again and began his walk forward with it. He stayed at it’s side even as it caught and ate mice, or crossed the sewage puddles to the other side. He walked with it even though he had two functioning wings because he didn’t have anywhere else to go, and had no clue where they were going. They rested once they got to small platform area. Its face was completely coated with blood both old and new. The only way the boy even actually knew to stop so they could rest was because it stopped and held out an arm across his body. His gaze followed it’s arm down to it’s bloody finger. It was pointing to the ground. Not to a ladder or even the street drain above the spot. The boy nodded with a small chirp and walked over there. Only when he completely laid down against the wall did he feel the full and complete extent of the soreness in his legs. It sat down next to him on the wall and the boy felt as uneasy as ever as he fell asleep.

He was shaken awake at dusk and it stood up straight, hardly even waiting for the boy. That probably meant bad news or something ominous was about to be cast upon them or some shit like that. The boy gave a dull tweet of irritation and the thing just stopped. The boy froze too, waiting for it to move. It twisted it’s head around yet again and bend backwards, the boy back up yet again as it send out a chuckle even lower than the usual. It almost sounded like a static recorded and he let out a chirp of apoligment. Appearing satisfied again it stood straight up and twisted it’s head on right again before hobbling forward. The boy walked forward as well, letting a small hiss escape him when his legs almost gave out. Thankfully it didn’t hear, or if it did it choose not to acknowledge the offending sound. 

They walked along for roughly 30 minutes before hearing another clanking noise. This time the thing actually hurried its pace, almost to a jog and the boy was left to follow like a rag doll. He almost let loose a few more chirps and peeps, but here were footsteps and the pattering of dogs coming in their directions.  It stopped so suddenly the boy almost ran into it before he saw it’s finger pointed upwards. He nodded and wasted no time jetting up while it began it’s ascend up the latter. The boy had just shoved the lid off the stupid manhole as barks were heard and it slithered out. He didn’t bother hiding the fact they were there and let the lid drop once he too was out. From there he was allow to use his wings as he was tasked with chasing the damn thing. It may not be able to walk, but oh man could it  sprint . He was vaguely glad it was dark outside and they were able to move more freely.

They didn’t get far before the boy was caught in a net and the thing was tearing him out, grabbing his arm, and quite literally dragging him as it ran. While he was trying to get his feet below him again the thing was being blocked from the front, side and back, effectively cutting off it’s directions. It hissed, startling the boy and charged to the side and hopping up. Somehow it caught a ladder of some sort and began climbing.  Once it was to the very top it wanted to proceed to the next building only to let out an ear shattering scream, effectively scaring the crap out of the boy. The boy was released at quickly scrambled to it's feet only to see something had shot the it in his leg and somehow it was bleeding profusely. The farthest he got was about three feet before there was an clattering sounds and footsteps on the ground again. He looked up only to jump and screech as he was shot in both the leg and shoulder. If he hadn't have jumped his wings would definitely have holes in them. He grabbed the thing under the arms and attempted to lift it, earning him another ear shattering scream and more shots. He dropped in, almost in fear of it being hurt, almost.  It shoved him away from it's spot on the ground and shrieked as well. The boy got the message loud and clear, he just didn't like it. It wanted him to go. It wanted him to just leave him behind to be taken back to that place. That lab, that godforsaken hellhole. 

He still went for just a minute, the war in his head stilling him just long enough for another shot to be fired. It landed right in front of his foot and he snapped out of this thoughts when the things shrieked yet again. He nodded and ran away, hopping right over the edge and tried to stay close, but that wasn't happening. Another gunshot rang out and he bit back a yelp as the bullet grazed over the bone of his wing. He hissed and dove down, flying closer to the ground and just around the corner as another gunshot boomed and hit the wall he'd just taken shelter behind. He flew another 20 minutes, twisting, turning slowing down speeding up until he got to another manhole and he was completely sure there was nobody following him. Only then did he dive into the sewers and walk in the water. Aw gross, that's not water, sewage. Even though the smell was even worse than him, he continued to walk deep enough that he wouldn't be picked up even by a bloodhound, or at least he hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I've got great news, I've set up a tumblr where I will also be posting fanfics like this and answering any questions you might have!  
> http://meowwritesalot.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's badly wounded and doesn't think it's really anything. He's on his way back to Washington when he runs into something fairly unexpected.

The boy made sure to keep his wings out of the water, the feathers were study, but easy to pluck off as well. He walked for hours, until the sun was halfway in the sky and then some, but he knew he had to return at some point. That thing saved him, kept him alive when he didn't want to do the task himself, and got caught for him. The least he could do was free the damn thing.

The stupid thing.

His own damn brother, or what's left of him.

    At some point he came across a blocked off wide pipe, and flew up to it. From there he curled up and rested his aching legs and feet. Earlier he'd taken off his shirt and tied it around his leg to stop the bleeding, so far it had held up, so he just readjusted the tightness before curling his wings around him, making it nearly impossible to see him, and drifting off.

    When midnight finally came he resurfaced, his wing was feeling a lot worse, as was his leg, but he figured he should use them for all they're worth. They lasted him about four hours before freezing up and causing him to skid to a stop.

    Ouch, okay then. Ow. “Stupid wings.” He curses lightly under his breath and got to his feet, prepared to walk forward instead. He took the darkest routes he could, sticking himself to the wall whenever a crowd or a car passed by. He felt a pang in his chest, and his hand went to cover the area above his oldest wound. There was a rusty sword that had impaled his body at one point. It was his fighting move before any of this happened, and a constant reminder of what he was, and will never be again. Normal. Somewhere in his limps around the corners or he paused and leaned against the wall for a quick rest. In his reminiscing he'd dropped his guard, leaving him exposed. He was so lost in thought he didn't even hear those tiny feet coming his way. In his defense they didn't make a whole lot of noise, especially against pavement, and some dorky kid came rushing around the corner straight into him.

    In his surprise, he'd let out a small squawk and took a swat before he could actually stop himself, but the boy wasn't even standing up anymore. During the collision he'd yanked himself back, tripped over his ankle, and slammed back on his butt. He now sat, eyes closed, rubbing the middle of his chest and panting hard. The boy blinked at the other and just stared.

****

To make things a lot less complicated:

Narrator=> Be the boy sitting on the cement rubbing his chest, in present time

****

    Alright, you are now the boy sitting on the cement rubbing your sore chest. You have absolutely no idea what even happened, but you do know you have a name. It’s John Egbert, not boy. Only your dad calls you that. Anyways, you’d said you were going over Jade's house and before you knew it, it was already 10:30! You're dads are going to kill you. Yes, dads as in plural, as in, you have two. Shocker.

Right then, after holding your breath and letting out a groan of pain as well you finally crack an eye to see just what the hell hit you. It's definitely not what you thought it was, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't let out the most girly scream of all screams ever screamed, pick yourself up, and start booking it back towards Jade's house. It didn't help that you have asthma or that you were running to get home seeing as it's triggered pretty easily. You will yourself not to get too excited and, if anything, that makes your heart beat faster. It's getting pretty hard to breath, and you're already starting to cough. It's not violent yet, maybe if you can calm yourself down enough. There's a wheezing sound, and it's pretty apparent that it's coming from you. Your coughs and coming quicker and there's a small flapping noise above you somewhere. You scream and come to a stop so fast you end up flat on your ass again, as the monster lands in from of you.  There's an attempt from you to stand, and turn and run, but it's already got you pinned to the ground. It's bloodied mask so long it's almost touching your glasses. You wheeze out a whimper before choking of more coughs. The panic is peaking harshly inside you. You can't handle this, and desperately start struggling, yelling, screaming, kicking your legs, and finally doing the stupid thing and kicking the monster. It lets go after a minute of just staring at you, and you don't hesitate to roll over. You managed to crawl an entire foot before vomiting and coughing nonstop. You flop on your back and scratch at your pocket, taking out your inhaler with shaky hands. Their too shaky, and the object dropped from your grasp. You didn't think it was possible to get even more even more panicked and you wheeze and chock even more than you were already. The monster is coming closer, you can somehow hear the shuffling of it's wings over your suffering lungs and throat.

This is it.

You're so going to die, so you squeeze your eyes closed and wait for it.

A minute passes with you doing nothing but hacking, then it happens. The coolness of something plastic  presses into your open mouth. Only then do you open your eyes. The monster is right in front of you, and you try backing up, but all that gets you is closer to your vomit. It doesn’t matter that the monster only seems to be actually trying to help. You still scoot back. It's way too close, but it’s also not letting you scoot back. Nope. It's probably really sick of you doing that because it straddles you and forced you to lay down on your back. After getting a somewhat clear look at its face it registers that it might actually be a male in the back of your mind. Your breathing hasn't gotten any better, and your hands fly up to your inhaler, pushing the top button in and breathing in the spray that comes out. His head tilts a bit, maybe in curiosity, and you take another shot before removing it from your mouth and coughing a few times. He goes to put it back to your mouth, but you hold his arm firmly in place. No more of that. After a while of just breathing, your breath finally evens out and he gets off you. You stand and pocket the lifesaver that is your inhaler and just look at him. The last time you tried to run he chased you, so you have no idea what he wants from you. You take a small step to the side and he mimics you. A step back, and he comes forward. A step forward, and he steps back. You just give him a confused look, feeling highly uncomfortable with the way he's staring at you. That feeling goes away when he gestures to his leg and wing. They're bleeding, and he takes a small step forward. This time you don’t cower or run. You stand perfectly still and let him come closer to you.   
    “Help.”   
    The sound catches you so far off guard you quickly look around to see where it came from, but here’s only him in the alley way.

“Help.”

Your eyes widen and lock on him. “H-how?” He doesn’t verbally answer, just shrugs. “I...might know someone?” He shakes his head. “I might be able to?” He just stares at you. You take a deep breath in and reach out with a shaky hand to his arm. At the contact he jerks back and so do you.

After a few minutes he steps forward again and when he gets within range again you reach out, your hand is the slightest bit steadier. He allows you to rest your hand on his shoulder and take a step to the side. He tried to mimic you, and only then do you even realize how much blood is seeping from his leg. It boggles your mind, the fact that he’s still standing, but something about his blood just seems wrong. Blood shouldn’t be that dark, although you really only have the distant streetlight to go by, it just looks all black. Either way, you suck up all your fear and slide in closely to him. His muscle shift and he twitch when one of your arms wrap under his wings and around his waist while the other drapes his arm over your shoulder. You initially shudder at the smell of him. He smells like rotting garbage and sewage! Aw gross!! When he chirps, you take a step forward and find yourself holding most of his weight when he goes to do the same. Your legs threaten to buckle under his weight, but somehow remain standing the entire walk home. Well, you walked, he hobbled.

When you finally reach your front door you tell him to  wait for you on the roof. To be honest, you have no idea if he can even understand you, but to your surprise he nods and start flapping his wings. Once you’re absolutely sure he’s not going to fall off the sturdy old roof of yours you reach into your pocket and turn on your phone to check for missed calls.

35 missed calls from both your dads.

You are in so much deep shit right now.

After calming yourself down in fear of a relapse you raise your hand to open the front door. No need, the door swings open and you’re faced with your huge muscular dad. Your faces match in surprise before your turns guilty and his turned outraged. He steps aside and you duck your head before walking inside. From there you get the scolding of a lifetime from both dads. That’s really something rare, usually it’s just one with a short speech, but not this time. You really must’ve worried them. You promise them you’ll never stay out this late again unless you have your phone turned on and are with a friend, and they finally relent their attack and let you go to bed.

You grab the first aid kit and a few towels from the upstairs bathroom of yours along the way and rest them on your bed before closing the door and going over to your window. From there you pause again, you really  don't want this thing in your room, but you know every second you waste he's getting weaker. So you gather your balls and quietly open your window, softly calling out. A chirp answers, then a tweet. You're really not sure whether it’s him or a bird, but you step out anyways. You take a few steps before a mass of blackness slowly dragging its way over to you catches your eyes. You really  want to help, but this old roof really wouldn't be able to hold under both your combined weights. So you just urged him forward, it’s a little effective, but it makes all the difference. It feels like forever; you quietly cheering him on and him slowly dragging himself along, but you finally get him inside. He tries laying down, but you make him sit on some of the towels you brought in. No way in hell were you about to let him lay in your bed covered in all this blood. There’s a small hiss from him, probably in irritation or something, which had you cringing back. After you'd gotten over it  you crawl back over to him and seat yourself on the floor between his legs to look at his right legs upper thigh. Now, you’ve never been an expert on patching up wounds, but you can see the bullet still in his leg, and that can’t be good. Oh this is gonna be fun. It takes a lot of breathing on your part before you even attempt speaking at telling him what you’re going to do, which is pull out the bullet. It isn't too loud, which you were very thankful for. The most he does was twitch and hiss. From downstairs you can hear your fathers arguing again and sigh lightly, getting up to turn off your room lights. If your dads came to check on you and they found this, well, you could kiss life goodbye. You think he might be confused, but it really doesn't matter to you how confused he gets. You turn on a nearby lamp and settle back down after throwing the bullet away to clean out the wound thoroughly and bandage it. Maybe tomorrow or the next day you could figure out a way to sneak a shower in for him. After the leg comes the wing. In this case, he won't let him work unless he has his arm around your waist. It was weird and you’d already tried moving it, but all that got you was a seriously pissed off hiss. Maybe it was just a trust thing? Either way it took a little longer than you anticipated, but finally the procedure is complete. That's the other thing; you have no idea how to treat something like this. So you ended up just pretty much wrapping the whole wing up while he gives you a look with his weird eyes.

Finally, after all the other wounds have been treated you let him lay down in your bed. You really don't want to sleep on your floor, it's messy and cold, but you also don’t want to sleep next to it. So you go over to your closet after you’re sure it’s asleep and grab some extra blankets. While you set up a temporary bed on the floor you snatch a pillow from your bed and turn off your lamp. Even then, though, it take a long, long time for you to fall asleep. ** **  
** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to try writing it all out before posting, but I got too excited to share something and so...yeah.  
> Hey guys, I've got great news, I've set up a tumblr where I will also be posting fanfics like this and answering any questions you might have!  
> http://meowwritesalot.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Cat gave me a prompt summary for a Henioustuck because I really, really wanted to write it. The only thing was she lost the link, and most of the dialogue was missing so I tweaked it a bit...  
> Anyways, Thank you Cat!!


End file.
